Nine Years Of Perdition
by ParaCaerOuVoar
Summary: Nine years is a long time to be without family. Can you ever truly heal from the loss of the only person who ever mattered to you? Would you want to?//RELATED ONESHOTS, SPORADIC UPDATES
1. Chapter 1

Ok, something new from me. Yes, AGAIN. This one won't take up too much of my time hopefully.

If you haven't read And It Is Written, read it first, otherwise this isn't gonna make a whole lot of sense.

This is gonna be a series of oneshots and songfics and whatnot, all taking place in the nine years after Dean's death, up until when AIIW finishes.

I own nothing. Points for the first person to guess the song.

--

Dean was gone.

That was the hardest thing to wrap his head around.

His big brother was dead.

Tears slipped down his cheeks as he cried for his dead family. First his mom, then dad, and now Dean.

Dean had always been there, through thick and thin, better and worse. The only times he hadn't had been were Stanford, and his four months in hell.

_So lately, I've been wonderin  
Who will be there to take my place  
When I'm gone, you'll need love  
To light the shadows on your face_

The first time Dean died, Sam coped, because he knew it was coming. Hell, it still knocked him for six, but he still functioned, fueled as he was by the promise of revenge, by the anger Lilith instilled in him. But this time, there was no coming back.

_If a great wave should fall  
It would fall upon us all  
And between the sand and stone  
Could you make it on your own_

There would be no more Sam and Dean, not anymore. It was like a barrier had slammed down between the brothers, cutting Sam off not from the only person that mattered, but from everyone, and everything. He could no longer access his emotions, his willpower, even his fucking demon mojo had shut the hell up. He was truly alone in the world now, and he didn't know if he could face a world without Dean.

He didn't know if he wanted to.

--

It was eleven days since he'd buried Dean, in the cemetery behind the church where Dean saved the world, and Sam's world came crashing down around them. He had heard nothing from Cas since before Dean's death. _Maybe he fucked off back to heaven, now that his job's done_, he thought bitterly, kicking at a headstone.

Suddenly, behind him, he heard the whoosh of feathers he had come to associate with Cas. 'What do you want?' he snapped, not bothering to look up, instead focusing on the simple tombstone in front of him, small letters inscribed on it.

WINCHESTER

1979-2009

Footsteps came up beside him as Castiel stopped, the hem of his trench coat beaded with dew from the long grass around them. 'I'm truly sorry, Sam,' he said, his voice tired and ragged.

'If you're so sorry, why did it take you eleven days to say it?'

There was silence, and Sam looked sideways with tear filled eyes, taken aback by what he saw. This wasn't the Cas he knew. His trench coat and suit, normally spotless, if a little askew, were stained and ripped, blood littering the white dress shirt. 'What happened?' Sam asked, eyes roving the angel.

'I died,' he said simply. 'And something brought me back.'

They stood together, paying silent respects to the fallen savior. 'I miss him,' whispered Sam, as he allowed the tears to wash his pain away, bringing with them a fresh wave of agony.

'I know,' Castiel replied. 'He was a good man.'

'Is it over?' he asked, wiping away the salty water brimming on his lids once again.

'The apocalypse? Yes. But there are still evil creatures out there. Creatures you have to kill.'

Sam shook his head furiously. 'No. I'm out. I have lost too damn much to this life. I'm getting the hell out.'

A third voice came from behind Sam, and he spun round to see a young woman, jet black hair falling into her eyes. 'The world needs hunters, Sam, and you're the best they've got.'

'Was the best,' he replied, walking away from the angel and the stranger. 'Not anymore. Sorry Cas. I can't do this without Dean.'

'But you can do this _for_ Dean,' the woman added, falling into step beside him.

'Who are you?'

'Raniel. I was sent by a higher power.'

'The same god who let my brother die saving the fucking world? He better be having a damn good time up there, for what it cost us.'

She paused. 'Dean's not _in _paradise Sam. That's why Cas is here. We're going to save him.'

He whirled around, his huge frame dwarfing Raniel's tiny vessel. 'Dean's in hell?'

He could feel his chest tightening as the news sunk in. He died fighting for heaven, and he ended up in hell? He fought off a panic attack uselessly. Frightened tears slid down his cheeks as he dropped to his knees, gulping in wheezing gasps of air.

He vaguely registered someone gripping his bicep firmly. 'No, Sam! We're going to bring him back. He's going to be fine. Listen to me, you son of a bitch!'

Slowly, the weight was lifted, and he could breathe. He wiped the tears of pain and asphyxiation from his cheeks. 'I didn't think angels were allowed to swear,' he joked weakly.

Raniel smiled. 'I'm not the harp wearing, halo playing angel you're thinking of. And I'm certainly not my reserved, whiter than white brother.' She laughed, before lapsing into silence again.

'It gets better, you know,' she said after a while.

Sam snorted.

'It does,' she insisted. 'I lost many of my brothers and sisters during the last war, and eventually, the hole left behind begins to heal. You're never the same again, but one day, life seems like it's worth living again.'

'I don't want the hole to heal!' he exclaimed. 'I just want my brother back!'

'You're going to get him back,' she soothed. 'But until you do, I'll be right here next to you. You're gonna be OK.'

_If I could, then I would_

_I'll go wherever you will go_

_Way up high, or down low_

_I'll go wherever you will go_

And though he barely knew her, Sam found himself believing her, and trusting her. Maybe she was right. Maybe he could move on from Dean. And maybe, just maybe, the angels could bring them back together again.

--

OK, longer than I thought it would be, but I like it.

Are there any scenes people want to see in this btw? Any Sam and Cas moments, or things you think could happen in the next nine years? I'm wide open for ideas.

More coming soon!


	2. Chapter 2

First off, HUGE apologies for not updating this sooner. My ff life's been a little hectic. But I have a new system (I finally sat down and filed everything and got it in order and shit)

This takes place about a month after the last chapter.

So, I own nothing, even the song, see if you can guess.

--

_And you can see my heart beating  
You can see it through my chest  
And I'm terrified but I'm not leaving  
Know that I must pass this test  
So just pull the trigger_

It came. Just like every night.

The nightmares, ripping open the wounds in his heart, the wounds that had begun to heal in the sun light.

He gasped for breath, even though he knew logically that his lungs were intact, it felt like they had been ripped from his chest, shredded by one of the huge beasts he hunted. Or used to hunt.

Despite Raniel's gentle coaxing, the ache in his chest was still there every time he even looked at hunting gear, or possible jobs. He knew it was stupid, that Dean wasn't hunting personified, but he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Ever since Dean had- he couldn't even think the word, thinking it sent a fresh wave of pain rippling through him, breaking him- Ever since Dean had left him, he'd been having these panic attacks, always at night, sometimes in the day too.

A fresh surge of pain, and tears dribbled out of his clamped shut lids. Tears of pain and loss and anger. Anger at not being strong enough to carry on. He heard the door open, and curled into an even tighter ball. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, human or angel. His long arms hugged his ribcage, trying to keep the pain squished inside him, not letting it out. If it was in him, he could keep it under control. The bed dipped as whoever it was sat down, and a hand was on his shoulder. And suddenly, as soon as it came, it was gone. Just like always. As soon as he was alone in his room, it started, and he cried himself to sleep, in agony from dusk till dawn. Almost worse than the attacks were the nightmares. The same nightmare, over and over again. Running through a forest, constantly running, knowing that if he can get there in time, he can save Dean. But get where? Through the forest? Out into the sunlight he sees peeking through the leaves, tinting everywhere green. Green. The colour of Dean's eyes. But, of course he could never get there in time, and he knew this.

Every night he woke screaming into the pillow, screaming until his throat was red-raw and bleeding.

He waited a few seconds, making sure the pain had subsided, sometimes it tricked him, going away and then roaring back with twice the intensity. Uncurling from his ball, he unwrapped his arms, feeling the ache in his ribcage from squeezing it too hard. His knees shrieked as he stretched his legs out, feeling the tension in his muscles. Wiping the tears from his cheeks, he sat up, turning to face Raniel, who he assumed had come to check on him, as she did every night.

But it wasn't Raniel who sat on the bed beside him, gripping his arm with strong fingers. It was Castiel. Dressed in faded jeans with a gaping hole in one knee and a black wifebeater, he sat on the edge of the bed, silent. The day after he had come back from death, he had discarded his trench coat and suit, changing them for more battle durable clothes.

'Where's Rani?' Sam asked, his voice hoarse from trying to keep the screams inside.

'Raniel is preparing for the first attack against hell.' The angels had been discussing a march on hell to pull Dean out again, and Sam knew Raniel was at the front of the queue, along with Castiel, and an odd young angel, Madiel. She had pure white hair, not white blonde, flowing down to her waist, and her blind eyes had a milky hue as well. Neither features detracted from her delicate beauty, and she was known to be the first to answer a cry for help, and what bigger cry than haven's saviour trapped in the pit.

The trio were taking with them five other angels, ones Sam didn't know yet, but they frequented the large farmhouse that was the base of their operations. It was constantly full of hunters and angels, working together, hunting together, living together, existing together.

Asasiel, with jet black hair and fiery violet eyes, and his friend Aiel, a dark skinned young man who had apparently worked with Uriel on cleansing before his untimely death at the hands of Castiel's old commander, Anael. Orphiel, the oldest of the angels, his silvery hair falling into his wise eyes. Saphiel, watching over them all, keeping them all safe. And Michael, the archangel, wielding his sword. He took point in the mission, and any further missions; Cas had informed him that it might take more than one trip to rescue Dean, angels can only remain in hell for a certain amount of time before being snapped back to earth. But, Cas had said, they would get stronger the more times they entered hell, and would be able to travel further and fight longer.

'When do you leave?'

'Tomorrow.'

'How long for?' Sam asked, his chest tightening at the thought of his angelic anchor leaving him for God knows how long.

Castiel paused, scratching idly at the tattoo that curled round his right forearm. It was a snaking flame that covered the arm from elbow to wrist, a reminder of Dean, and where he was. A reminder of what they fought for. Sam watched the tattoo, knowing what it stood for and hating it. Hating the reason it stood for. Hating that there had to be a reason it stood for.

Suddenly, he noticed something. Castiel was wearing Dean's amulet. The sight of it sent a lump of emotion to his throat, and he looked away, his eyes tearing up again, the telltale throbbing of a panic attack blurring the edges of his vision. But Castiel's hand was strong on his, and his deep voice cut through the pain. 'You're stronger than this Sam. You will beat it. I know you will.'

Cas kept talking, and Sam fought the panic attack, kept fighting it, until the pain subsided slightly. It didn't feel like the pain was getting less, more that he'd grown stronger. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and relaxed.

'Thank you,' he said softly.

'No one should have to go through that alone.' Castiel replied.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just watching each other companionably. 'I miss him.' Sam broke the silence.

'Me too.'

'How do you stand it? The loss, hanging over you?'

'You don't. You just keep moving through the day, through the night, hoping that one day, it goes away, and stays gone.'

'But when?' Sam persisted.

'Honestly? Sometimes a year. Sometimes never.' Castiel stood up, clasping Sam's shoulder. 'But there are always people who can make the loneliness go away.' He started to leave. 'I'm always here if you need me, Samuel.'

When he reached the door, he turned back to him. 'We leave at dawn. Pray for us Samuel. You lost your faith. You can find it again.' Sam climbed out of the bed and wrapped Castiel in an embrace, burying his head in his shoulder. Castiel patted him on the back. Sam raised his head, hazel eyes shining.

'Bring him back, Cas. Bring him back to me.'

'I will, Sam. I promise.'

--

Any requests for chapters? Angelwise, or Sam-wise? I know I have a hell chapter planned, and a Gabriel chapter planned, but apart from that I'm wide open. Nine years of backstory here people!


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